Damselfly
by Shiro Ryuu
Summary: They called her Madame Butterfly, ‘the woman who spreads her garish wings for everyone... and opens her black little heart for no one...’ Pretty strong suggestion of D x Leon, but it’s only briefly mentioned.


**AN: **Heh, also known as 'The Evil Deeds of Lilith', in case anyone else is a raving-mad Angel Sanctuary fan ;) As for why its actual title is 'Damselfly' when it's about butterflies, I think it's pretty self-evident; 'Madame' plus 'Butterfly' equals 'Damselfly' Ooch, aren't I clever? (sweatdrop) In other news, this fic was conceived and written entirely in one day, under the influence of Led Zeppelin, the Stones, and ridiculous amounts of food, and the first draft was entirely done on paper because the first ice-storm of the year had just started and I was too afraid of the power shorting out to turn my computer on (so it stayed on the entire time, heh). Please keep in mind that nothing makes me happier than reviews, except for possibly chocolate no-bake cookies.

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**Damselfly**

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Some people may think that a pet shop would generally be a pretty peaceful place, at least between customers. While it is entirely possible that some individuals may exist who are even now laboring under such an utterly mistaken impression, it just goes to show that they've obviously never had pets before.

Generally most pet shops, to put it frankly, are the antithesis of peaceful. Only the exotic lizards would normally be silent; fish tanks would burble, hamster wheels would squeal, dogs would bark, and the birds would raise the most deafening racket of all. Most of the time Count D's pet shop was no different from other pet shops in that respect - except that now was not one of those times.

It was true that, from somewhere in the back area of the store, one could hear the distant sound of water (though the attentive listener might note that it sounded less like fish tanks and rather more like the ocean surf). The animals, however, were still and quiet. They draped themselves across the furniture in seemingly lethargic poses - when one watched them long enough to see just exactly how little they were moving, however, one realized that it was very much as if they were waiting for something.

In a secluded corner by one of the front windows of the shop, D sat in one place for so long that he might have turned to stone.

Under the pet shop owner's attentive gaze, storm clouds rolled in to a sky that had been completely clear at dawn. As D looked on, the rain started, a nasty cold drizzle just heavy enough to drive everyone inside, and which promised to last all day. The streets did indeed empty, and for a time it was not quite clear what D thought he was watching - but then his efforts were rewarded, as one soaking and stoop-shouldered man staggered in to view.

When D threw his door wide open, the man jumped guiltily, perhaps as if he was afraid that he was about to get told off for loitering. D smiled to set him at ease. "Please, feel free to come in. It's miserable out there, isn't it?"

The man hesitated. "I - don't have any money," he mumbled, and the Count observed with interest that the man sounded as if he was just now realizing this himself. He waved the objection off, however.

"Just come in. I'll get you a towel, and put some tea on."

D refrained from asking anything until the man had dried off a bit and was comfortably situated on a couch with a blanket around his shoulders and a steaming cup in his hand. The stranger was actually quite a good-looking man, he saw, with an odd combination of black hair and bright blue eyes. The animals observed him from a distance, and he looked around at them all curiously.

"You may call me Count D," D offered, and the strangeness of it seemed to catch the man's attention somewhat. "And you name would be...?"

"Berkley," he said vaguely. "You have quite an interesting variety of animals. Is it really safe to leave them all loose like this...?"

"Perfectly safe, and thank you," D said. "Now then, Mister Berkley... just what was it you were looking for out there in the rain, if you don't mind my asking...?"

Berkley grimaced. "I'm not some kind of bum," he assured him hurriedly. "I just - left my wallet at home, I guess."

"Ah," D said, nodding knowledgably. "You lost big at gambling, didn't you?"

Berkley glowered at him. "No!"

"_Ah._" D took a sip of his own tea. "Then, perhaps, you had an argument with your wife?"

Berkley jumped again, and a moment later yelped as steaming tea sloshed over on to his hand. D arched an eyebrow as he handed him his napkin to help. "I take it I was a bit closer to the mark this time?" he suggested.

"A bit," the other man agreed, grinning nervously. "Though she's not my wife, just my girlfriend..."

"Oh, my apologies... Or are you, perhaps, hoping to make her your wife someday?"

"Um, well..." Berkley stared moodily into his teacup. "I don't know."

"Come now," D scolded gently, "surely the argument wasn't that bad?"

"It... it..." D noticed that Berkley's hands were shaking slightly, just before he slammed his cup down. "It's none of your business," he said snappishly, standing.

"Forgive me," the Count apologized again. "I wouldn't leave now if I were you; the rain is only getting worse."

Berkley paced to the window without a word and watched the rain for some time as if trying to see if he was telling the truth. "I'm sorry," he finally said gruffly. "It's just that I was - so stupid. I've been with her for so long, and I had the audacity to think-" He cut himself off then, however, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Do you really want to hear this, or were you just asking to be polite?"

D frowned thoughtfully at him. "Go on," he said simply.

The man gripped the window ledge, and for a moment he looked up at the rain as if he was pleading with it. "Her name is Lilith," he murmured. "We met back in college. She was a math major, and I was in engineering..." He chuckled to himself. "Good times," he declared, and glanced over his shoulder at D. "The guys in my dorm always called her Madame Butterfly - 'the woman who spreads her garish wings for everyone - and opens her black little heart for no one'." He looked nostalgic as D had the decency to look away. "Come to think of it, it sounds a little too flowery for a college boy to come up with; she may have told one of us that herself..."

"Charming," D muttered. "But in the end she gave her heart to you?"

Berkley's fingers drummed a little tattoo on the window sill. "I thought she might have," he said bitterly. "We've been living together for almost four years now!" He finally turned to face D, throwing his arms wide in frustration. "Do you know how many times I've proposed to that woman? She never even considered it, just turned me down with that smile...!"

"You shouldn't have let her stay, then," D said uncompassionately, sipping his tea. Berkley was pacing the floor now, making the animals whisper amongst themselves nervously.

"But she told me she loved me!" he insisted. "And I loved her, too... so much..." He scowled at D. "But she lied. She had this ring... she always told me it was something to remember an old high school friend by - but she wore it on her ring finger! No room for a wedding ring with that ugly black thing there!" He laughed, somewhat hysterically. "Today, I found out..."

D stood abruptly. "Mister Berkley, I believe I have just the thing for you."

"I already told you I don't have my wallet," Berkley snapped, as D walked up to a covered cage. "And I don't want a pet!"

"This is no ordinary pet," D assured him. "And I can offer you such a small thing free of charge. You can pay me back later, if you... ever find yourself in a position to do so..." He whisked the cover from the cage just as Berkley was about to protest further, and the words died in the blue-eyed man's throat.

Inside the delicate iron lacework flitted a butterfly as red as rubies. "I've never... seen one this color," Berkley whispered, transfixed. D smirked.

"The color a heart is supposed to be," he suggested softly.

"And I can really just take it...?" The man reached out his hands to take the cage - and for just a moment, he though his hands were red too. He jumped, and fumbled with the decorative little handle, but the illusion only lasted a moment and he was able to hang on to it.

"Yes," D confirmed. "Take it with my compliments... as something to remember dear Lilith by."

Berkley whirled to him, eyes suddenly wide, but D merely handed him the cover. "Be careful to keep her dry - if the powder washes off her wings, she'll die..."

* * *

After Berkley had hurriedly bowed himself out, D returned to his seat by the window. With the stranger gone, activity in the rest of the pet shop returned to normal. D was mildly surprised to realize that it was only mid-afternoon; he hardly had to wait any time at all before another visitor burst into the shop, as confidently as if he owned the place.

"D!" Leon called. "You got a towel?"

"Why, my darling detective, you came all this way in that downpour just to see me?" D wondered, deeply amused.

Leon scoffed. "You think I give a crap about a little rain?"

D chuckled as he handed the detective a towel and then went to start some fresh tea. Had the man really understood the question at all, or did he realize what he was implying? D somehow doubted it. _Ah, people can be so silly... They never notice when love is staring them in the face._

**Owari**


End file.
